Made With You
by Xazz
Summary: A collection of kissing requests from my blog, including stories from other of my AUs.
1. JariDiyari

I was taking requests again on my blog (not anymore). Still working on some, but I was taking requests for fluff and pairings.

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Jari/Diyari (yeah from Lily in the Valley)

He'd never been a fan of Acre, never. But then he wasn't much a fan of the sea, he thought it smelt of piss. His brothers thought he was crazy, but then most of them had not ever lived at the sea. Jari had been a boy in Tyrus when the Dai there had found him, after his father had been hung on counts of sodomy and his mother had been useless. He'd tried to find a way to make money, in that he'd found the Brotherhood, and he'd never looked back when the Dai, then a man named Rushd, had sent him off with two other boys from the area during his Threshing. That was why he didn't like the sea and why he didn't like Acre, beyond the fact that it was a cesspool.

This year Abdul Batin was hosting the Dai meeting in Acre. It was also the first one Jari had gone on. He was accompanying Malik as a guard, though the Grand Dai did not really need one, and had left Ehan to find a replacement for him. They'd added one other to their number since this had begun, because since Diyari had left them it was hard to maintain the watch. The meeting wouldn't be long though. The meeting lasted four days, one day to arrive, two days of meeting, and then the fourth was anything that needed to be said last and leaving.

Despite himself Malik played the cripple amazingly well and Jari his brother as he led their horses into Acre, the Grand Dai sort of slumped on his horse, leaning to his left. He told the guards at the front his business in the city, they were here to see their sister, and yes they _were_ Christians, and were allowed in. Acre was as derelict as he remembered and smelled of sewage, death, smoke, and sickness.

It didn't take them long to find the bureau where Abdul Batin was waiting for them. He ran a small rug trading business and the bureau was lavishly decorated in his wares. Abdul welcomed them with open arms and told them the best place to find a place to sleep for the night, as the bureaus were not meant to hold so many people, even on their best days, and definitely not horses.

They found the inn Abdul had suggested and Jari handled the horses while Malik bought them rooms for the next few nights. A feeling of excitement crawled along his skin, making the hair on the back of his arm stand on end. He'd been looking forward to this for a while. But he tried to not let himself get distracted and focused on seeing to the horses, rubbing them down and filling their trough with water and putting their gear together.

His horse knocked his hood off of his head as he worked and nibbled on some of his short hair. Behind him someone laughed, clearly at him, and he spun around. "Malik said I'd find you here," Diyari said.

"You look awful with facial hair," Jari informed him and went over to him slowly. The other man couldn't seem to grow a beard and it was just as messy as it had been the last time they'd seen each other, almost two years ago now, when he first left for Aleppo.

"Jarib says the same thing, he's trying to convince me to just shave it," he said when Jari stood in front of him and properly closed the pen's door, so no one could see inside.

"Trim it at least," Jari said staring at him.

"This _is_ trimmed."

"Then definitely cut it," Jari smirked before, slightly hesitantly, reached up with both hands and cupping Diyari's face. "I'd be happy to help you with it," he added, pushing the Dai back some so his back made a soft thud against the stable door.

Diyari licked his lips and it was literally the most distracting thing Jari had seen in years and he immediately forgot what he'd just said, hell what they were even _talking about_. "I'll think about it," the Dai said and then he smiled and it was exactly like how he remembered. No, he took that back. It was better. "Later though," and he pitched his head just so to the side and leaned forward to kiss him. Jari melted against him and wrapped his arms around him firmly, tasting the inside of his mouth fully.

They stayed like that for a time. Too long. Too short. It would always be too short. Even if he had every day with Diyari for the rest of his life it would be too short. There was never enough time, especially when you knew what waited for you when you finally left this mortal coil. There was no place in heaven for people like _them_.

Eventually though they did part, and Jari pressed his forehead to the Dai's. "I do like the hair though," he said softly, since Diyari had let it grow out. Not long exactly, but longer, it was curlier now too.

"I'm quite partial to it myself," Diyari agreed, pressing his lips to his softly, gently, only there because Jari knew they were. He ran his fingers through the Dai's hair, tangling it in the bit of curls there was there, and let the back of his knuckles slide down the curve of his neck. "I've missed you," Diyari said in a half gasp.

Jari smiled, "I missed you too," and kissed him again. "Every day," another kiss. "Every _moment_," another kiss. "Haytham thought I was going to go crazy."

"Haytham worries of things he doesn't need to concern himself with."

"He's got his little novice to worry about now-

"Jari, Diyari, you in here?" someone called. Jari repressed a groan when Dean called them from the front of the stable.

"Yes," Diyari called and shot Jari a look, he untangled himself from the Dai.

"The Grand Dai needs you Jari."

"Of course he does," Jari muttered.

"It's fine," Diyari reminded him softly. "We'll talk again after dinner. Yes?"

Jari gave him look, "We'll do more then talk," and he felt his cheeks flush a bit, worth it for the flame that appeared on Diyari's face though. Then he'd moved further away and opened the pen's door, "I'm coming," he called to Dean who was still there waiting, and waited for Diyari to leave the pen before closing the door soundly behind him.


	2. AltMal

AltMal (also Lily verse)

It was reasonable for him to be worried to find the fortress quiet. It just was, because quiet was never usually a good thing. It was around lunch though so he tried not to think too much about it. There was just… this oppressive air about the place however like someone had died, or many someone's had died. And not in the typical fashion Assassins are used to with death, but like someone important had been murdered.

A jolt of fear raced down his spine.

He turned to Jari who had been remarkably up beat since they'd left Acre. A much better attitude to his fidgety, nervous, energy getting there like he hadn't been able to sit comfortably in his own skin. "Do you feel that?" Malik asked.

"Feel what?"

"That ominous feeling."

"No… should I?" Jari was confused, "I think you're imagining it Malik." Well at least he'd broken Jari of his 'Grand Dai' habit. The title was a bit of a mouthful and he thought of Jari and Ehan more as friends then not and them always calling him by his title was annoying. He had enough people stuck in the rut of calling him Grand Dai, sometimes he forgot what his own name was!

"Perhaps," Malik admitted and they walked up the ramp to the fortress. Other then the guards, who were stoically silent, the ground floor was empty. The garden was as well, even of the women who tended it. It wasn't _that_ warm out yet, as it was still spring. There should be no need to escape inside today. There was no one at the Masters' desk either, but that was not strange. He bid Jari back to his room to wash and put away his things, and continued up the stairs to the Master's floor.

Ehan was at the door, sitting in a chair and when he saw Malik he actually jumped to his feet. "You're back," he said and Ehan was smiling.

Ehan. Was. _Smiling._

Ehan didn't smile. For anything. He was serious, and cool, and while he didn't have a poker face like Altair (quite contrary he was actually amazingly transparent) he usually just looked bored. So to see Ehan smiling made Malik wary. "Uh… yes, I am," Malik said.

Ehan came over to him, "Let me," and he took Malik's bag and then prodded him towards the door and knocked.

"It had better be important," Altair growled from inside.

"Has he been like this since I left?" Malik asked softly, since Altair sounded moody.

"He held it together about a day," Ehan explained, just as quietly, "Yes, very important," he called, "The Grand Dai has come home, I thought you should know bef-

But then the door was opening and Ehan cut himself off. Altair was in just his white robes and had Sawsan on his shoulder, his hood was pulled down low over his eyes so Malik had to sort of lean down to see him. "Did you behave while I was away Altair?" he asked, sort of teasing, Altair just sort of scowled at him and Ehan edged past them into the room and set Malik's bag down. "You did didn't you?"

"I did," Altair said.

"Good," and Malik pushed him pack with the flat of his hand. "Thank you Ehan, that will be all." Ehan just bowed and scrambled out of the room. "Now," he said once Ehan was gone, "What is this _mood_? Did you miss me so much?" Altair didn't answer. "I bet Sawsan missed me," and he scratched her under the chin, she purred loudly, her tail twitching in delight. "And you my Mentor, did you?" he asked again.

"I really don't like it when you leave," Altair admitted, his voice low.

Malik smiled a little. "I know," he said, and grabbed the side of Altair's hood, tugging him closer, "But I had to go. And I see no one's dead… right?"

"No," he grunted in agreement.

"And there were no major catastrophes while I was gone."

"No," he said again.

"And you did your work."

"… Uh."

"Altair," he said patiently.

"I tried," he admitted.

"You got the others to help you?"

"I did," he said.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes. That's what they're there for. What? Did you think I'd be upset you didn't do it on your own?" and by Altair's silence Malik knew he had. "So smart, and yet so stupid," he sighed. "Now, are you going to welcome me home or not?" Malik asked him.

This close not even Altair's low hood could hide his eyes or the way they flashed up to his eyes and then briefly to his lips and then back up. Then Altair's lips twitched, almost into a smirk, "Welcome home, Malik," and he kissed him. Malik kissed him back his hand still gripping Altair's hood firmly. Sawsan walked across to Malik's shoulders and then back around to Altair's, her tail touching his head and neck, purring the entire time. She was happy.

Altair looped his arms around his waist, "You taste like dirt," he said when they parted.

"I've only been on the road the past few days, so excuse me," Malik said sarcastically.

"Mmm, you should wash."

"It sounds like you want to help me," Malik rose his brows at him.

"How did you guess?" and now Altair smirked fully.

"And you were good while I was gone?"

"The best," he promised.

"Hmmm," Malik seemed to think it over. "All right. You may," and kissed the end of his nose.


	3. MalikAltair

AltMal (Seal Beach AU)

They'd had a fight. Their first fight. Altair was, predictably, being moody about it. Nothing good came out of angry fighting and bickering and usually he and Malik didn't fight. They literally had nothing to fight about. But recently it'd been a little strained, because of what was going on at Malik's home.

Altair had said it was okay for Malik to date a girl, to get his dad off his back. And it was okay, really. Malik was still his boyfriend. It was just Malik spent like _all_ his time with her. He knew it really wasn't Malik's fault, but it felt like he was avoiding everyone because he was always with Nadyne. He thought Malik would break up with her by now, it'd been almost two months.

That's what they'd fought about. Perfectly logical thing to fight about. He missed being able to spend time with his boyfriend and actually act like they were dating! The only one of the people he hung out with who didn't know they were dating was in fact Nadyne and she was _always_ around. He just wanted to be around Malik and be able to flirt with him and kiss him and just fucking _touch him_ for god's sake. He couldn't do that when she was around. He wasn't the biggest fan of PDA but god damnit he sometimes just wanted to bury his face in Malik's shoulder, or lay with him on the beach and lay all over him. It wasn't like he wanted to be completely obvious about it but even the subtle things; nope, couldn't do it. Nadyne.

So now they were 'on a break' whatever the fuck _that_ meant. Though maybe it was for the better, their fight had been… well it had been really bad. Yelling at each other and saying all sorts of stuff that in retrospect neither of them really meant. They'd just been at the end of the line and he knew Malik was as stressed as he was because of his dad and Nadyne and that they were going to be seniors and Malik's dad was pressuring him to become a lawyer like him. They were both stressed and irritated and needed some breathing room.

Thus this break. It'd been going on for about a week and Altair had become a hermit. He couldn't even go to the beach because Malik would be there, or really even hang out with his friends, again because Malik would be there, and so would Nadyne. He couldn't see her with him anymore. He just _couldn't_, it was starting to break him as it was, it would do so fully if he had to pretend to keep up appearances during this whole… thing.

Desmond opened his door where he was lying, face down on his bed. He hadn't left the house in a week except to go to Tae Kwon Do or to get some groceries. "Altair?" he asked, standing in the doorway.

"Hey buddy," Altair huffed and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Desmond came into his bedroom and crawled onto his bed, Altair immediately wrapped his arm around him and pulled him up against him on the bed, snuggling him. His little brother was like his personal, breathing, teddy bear sometimes. It was sorta nice actually because Desmond loved to cuddle.

"Is something wrong?" Desmond asked him. He should have known his little brother would figure it out. His brother was five, he wasn't stupid.

"Just Malik," Altair sighed, flopping back down.

"So not me?"

"No," Altair smiled a little and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "You're being great, as usual," and Desmond wrapped his arms around him. "You have fun with Shaun today?" he asked and maneuvered them so he was lying on his side, facing his brother.

Desmond nodded, "He didn't want to play nice though. He called me a mean thing."

"What did he call you?"

"He called me… uh…" he thought a few more seconds, "A wanker."

"He did?" Altair demanded.

"Yeah, and then his mommy spanked him," and he grinned.

"Oh, okay. That was a really bad thing," he agreed, Desmond nodded. He was about to say something else when there was knocking on the door. The hell? He sat up, Desmond still clinging to him and when he stood he just took Desmond with him, holding his brother on his hip. He'd whine anyway so easier to just take him with.

The knocking came again, insistent now. "Coming!" he called as he left him room and walked down the hall to the front door. He opened the door and was surprised to see Malik there.

For a second neither of them said anything, then, "Hi," Malik spoke first.

"Hi," he said.

Malik's mouth worked for a moment, "Cam… I talk to you?"

"Yeah."

He glanced at Desmond, "Alone?"

Altair looked at his brother a moment and then put him down. Desmond whined, "Go back to my room, I'll be there in a minute," he said. Desmond pouted at him, wanting to still be held but it wasn't happening. Realizing it wasn't going to happen he left. Altair grabbed one of his elbows, crossing his arm in front of him nervously. "So?" he asked, worried about what Malik would say.

Malik took a breath, and held it, mouth open for a moment before saying, "I broke up with Nadyne," he said.

"You did?"

"Yeah. I uh, told her and my dad it wasn't working out. It wasn't," his eyes darted around his face, unable to stay still. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled at you and said all that shit. I didn't mean any of it," he rubbed his cheek, his eyes were wide, nervous as well.

"I'm sorry too," Altair said.

"You're not mad?"

"Not really."

Malik gave a sigh of relief. "Good," he smiled a little, looking grateful. "I don't wanna be on break anymore," he added.

"Me neither," and he let go of his arm. Malik's smile widened and he took two steps before he was kissing him. Altair wrapped his arms around his neck as Malik kissed him and it was great. He'd missed this. Not just the last week, but since he'd been pretending to date Nadyne, this whole time he'd been thinking he had to _share_. Altair, surprisingly, didn't share very well.

"You're never dating a girl with me again," Altair told him when they came up to breath.

"I don't want to," Malik said, kissing him again nicely. "Can I come in?" he asked.

"Only if you don't plan on leaving."

Malik laughed, "Never," he promised and Altair pulled him inside, kissing him again as he closed the door.


	4. AltairMalik

AltMal (from the My Love is like a Coin AU)

The entire thing was just a bit strange. Especially at first. He'd had to tell Maria about it because he couldn't just _not_ tell his wife about it anymore. She hadn't believed him. Of course not, he sounded like a_crazy person_ going on about mermaids and such. She said he needed help. He'd told her that wasn't going to happen because he _wasn't_ crazy, and then he'd proved it.

She hadn't been a fan of Malik's teeth at first. Still wasn't actually. But she didn't dislike him at least. She had at first, especially since Malik had no qualms touching Altair whenever he wanted and saw nothing wrong with what he was doing. Technically she was the one who'd taken Altair away from _him_ and he'd told her that.

In short. In had been a _very_ rocky start.

But that was behind them now. Thank goodness too!

It turned out Malik was good with children, he loved them actually and that was how he'd endeared himself to Maria. Darim thought he was cool and Sef wasn't old enough to be left unattended, but now it wasn't always on Maria while Altair was working. Malik was around and acted as an extra pair of hands to Maria so she wanted taking care of a two year old and a few month-old by herself. So that's how it'd worked out, and now Maria didn't mind (as much, though he still saw her give Malik a side eye sometimes) Malik touching him, or kissing him, though it'd taken her a while to get used to the idea of two men kissing.

He was working. He was always working. His family name was well known and he had his master's chain and was usually really busy. He couldn't help but be honestly and sometimes it was really annoying since he wanted to just sit down with his family and eat dinner with them.

Right now he was polishing an sapphire. It was going to go on a tiara for a noble's teenage daughter. It was the centerpiece of the thing and about as big as his thumbnail. The damn thing had cost a fortune too, let alone finding it and now shaped it was nearly flawless. He'd been working on it for days. Behind him the door opened near soundlessly.

"I'm busy," he said, not even looking. The door closed quietly again and he held the sapphire up to the window to catch the light

He started when a pair of hands slid around his shoulders. "I know you are," Malik said into his ear, his voice low and like a rumble, the crashing of waves against a cliff. He'd _never_ get over the sound of Malik's voice. "You work very hard," his phrasing was also always a bit off, and he nuzzled Altair's neck.

"Malik, I'm working."

"Know this," he rumbled. "Do not care," and those razor sharp, needle-like, teeth tugged on his ear lobe. He shivered. Maria didn't like Malik's teeth, and even after a while Altair was still sort of nervous of them (and maybe a little turned on too). He knew they could shred him in an instant if Malik was anything less then gentle. But he was. He was _always_ gentle, especially with Darim and Sef.

"Go play with Darim," he huffed.

"No, wanna play with you," Malik nuzzled him again and at some point his hands had gone from his shoulders to his waist and were sliding under his shirt.

"Malik," he sighed and finally put the sapphire down so he didn't _drop it_. Malik just rumbled against his neck, sounding like he was purring like a damn cat. "Malik," he said again, firmer.

"All work bad for you," Malik said kissing and licking his neck. Malik liked licking, a lot. Altair turned to him to say something but Malik just kissed him so he couldn't speak. He relaxed a bit where he sat against Malik and reached up to tug on his chin.

"I need to work," Altair said.

"No," he shook his head.

"You're going to be difficult about this won't you?" Malik's enthusiastic nod was enough to make him groan in frustration. "Fine," he said, "I'll take a break, but then you have to let me get back to work. Okay?"

"Okay," and then Altair was reminded very obviously of Malik's impressive strength when he pulled Altair's chair back, with him still in it, without even trying and then Altair found himself with a lap full of merman. Merman who currently had legs, but still a merman. "You're going to be gray soon," Malik informed him.

"No I'm not," knowing he meant his hair.

"Will if don't relax some," and then Malik kissed him again sweetly, his arms around his neck. Malik did that purring thing again, and Altair wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing him back.

Somehow they ended up on the floor and Altair forgot he was just 'taking a short break'. Later they were being woken up by Maria as she called to Altair through the door about dinner and Altair found himself in a pile of clothes, half dressed, his mermaid pressed up against him, smiling pleasantly into his bare chest, naked. He needed to stop letting Malik do this to him. He'd never get any work done like this!


	5. RaufYusuf

RaufYusuf

Sometimes he's too nice. Yusuf knows this. And when he says he knows this he means he _knows this_. But he's nice and can't say no. Especially to Leo who can pull off the biggest, wettest, bluest puppy eyes he's ever seen in his life. Ezio for his part is immune, he has two younger siblings, one of which liked to play the sick card when he was younger so that he had Ezio wrapped around his little finger. Yusuf doesn't have that sort of steel though. He likes to pretend he does, but he doesn't.

And that's why he's currently in a gay bar with Leo who's getting hit on by big guys with beards and Yusuf wonders if Leo's even into that. He knows he's into Ezio, though their friend is very _very_ clearly on the other side of the fence, but these guys aren't like that. Honestly he just sort of gave up trying to figure out what Leo's type was when they were in high school, hurts his brain less.

So he's just sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and keeping an eye on Leo who's way too trusting and some of these guys look either too young to be here, or pedophiles. Not most of them though. Most of them are just… dudes really. Sure are there some who are very _obviously_ gay, and he even sees a few drag queens dancing on the stage. Yusuf turned away, he was bi on a good day, but his string of girlfriends told a better story then just him saying it. He finished his drink and motioned for the bartender for another martini and cast a quick glance at Leo who was flirting with some guy who actually looked like he wasn't even old enough to drive.

He was about to say something when someone slid between him and Leo. "Hey," they said, looking at him, and very obviously _looking_. Oh. Uh. He didn't know what to do when guys hit on him, he didn't mind exactly, but he didn't know what to do about it. "You look like you're having fun."

Yusuf was momentarily tongue tied, not because of any real reason other then he was an idiot though. The guy was short with dark hair and dark skin and dark hair. Tall, dark and handsome, hold the tall actually and jesus christ were his arms _for real_? They were bigger then his head. In fact he was pretty built all over.

Then he found his voice, "A blast," he said dryly and was glad when the bartender put the martini glass down in front of him.

"I'm Rauf," they said over the music and it probably should have been illegal to have an accent like that actually, and a smile like that. Okay tonight Yusuf was a little more then just bi and that was okay in his book!

"Yusuf," he said.

Rauf looked over his shoulder at Leo, "You with him?" he asked once he was looking at him again, nodding at Leo.

"Yeah. I mean no, no I am, but I'm not-" Rauf laughed and Yusuf felt stupid. "I'm his friend," he explained.

Rauf leaned on the bar, over to him, "He seems to be doing fine," and shit he was blushing, because Rauf was close and he was attractive and this _really_ wasn't fair. Now he knew how girls felt though when a way too charming and attractive guy came up to them and it was hard to say no. "Can I have this dance?" he asked as a new song came on and fuck this guy! No really this was so unfair. Especially because he picked up Yusuf's hand and kissed the top of his fingers when he asked.

Yusuf's mouth worked for a second, "Yeah," he found himself saying, Rauf grinned. "Just, uh," he motioned to Leo. Rauf nodded and stepped back and Yusuf could breathe and he leaned over and got Leo's attention.

"Yeah?" Leo asked, all bright eyed and energetic.

"Okay, one," he said to Leo, "Make sure that guy isn't jail bait."

"I take that as a compliment," the man Leo had been flirting with said.

Yusuf made some sort of face, "And two, I'm… ganna go dance."

Leo looked at him, and then his eyes went to Rauf standing just to the side and when Rauf looked he saw he was making some sort of hand motions at two guys on the dance floor. Leo's face nearly split in two, "Good for you. Get it," he added.

"Never say that again oh my god Leo," and Leo laughed and gave him a playful push away. Rauf grinned at him and took his hand lightly, pulling him over to the dance floor.


	6. YusufRauf

All the Dutch is correct in this, but I'm not providing translations because I don't feel translations are important. But if you want 'em my Dutch friend gave me the correct translations so they'll be right.

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RaufYusuf (Liefde AU)

He was on break. His feet hurt but he didn't complain. At least he had a job, which was more then he could say he'd had back in the States. Okay he'd had a job there but he'd hated it. At least here he was happy with it and his life. He fiddled with his phone, still getting used to it, since it was new, and could hear people talking behind him back in the restaurant.

Another of the waiters came out of the back door and immediately lit a cigarette and walked a few feet away. He watched them for a bit before turning away.

It had been a long few weeks. There'd been a lot to do and he was still sort of worried about his visa, but he couldn't worry about that now. It was fine, he had it, he didn't have to worry. Really he should be worried about getting his citizenship. But later. Not on his break.

Just _a lot_ to think about, a good amount of stress and he hadn't really had any relief. He'd moved to be with Rauf, obviously, and he was happy here, or at the least, no longer depressed, but he worked every day, and he just kinda got lonely sometimes. He just wanted to stop and make out with his boyfriend okay! It really wasn't that big a thing. Just stop, and remind himself why he was here.

Now he really just wanted to be kissed. He'd been thinking about it all week, as they'd been really busy and Rauf usually didn't get home till after he'd gone to bed and Yusuf wasn't needy enough to wake him up early in the morning when he desperately needed the sleep. But yeah. He wanted a kiss. A bunch of them.

He looked down at his phone and flipped it open before texting, 'Kom hier en kus me' with a grin. He'd been slowly learning how to speak and write Dutch, but it was hard cause it was so different. But he could write it better then he could speak it at least.

Honestly he wasn't expecting a reply, but a few moments later his phone buzzed. 'Ik ben nog aan het werk, katerje,' he could practically hear the exasperation in Rauf's reply. At the least the roll of his eyes.

He took a second to think about how to say the next part. Syntax wasn't his strong suit at times. Once he'd said it a few times in his head he got it and replied 'Ik heb nu pauze, dus kom hier en kus me.'

He didn't get a reply to that and he expected that. He had a few more minutes of his break left and he just tried to focus on willing his feet to stop hurting. The other waiter was still smoking his cigarette and talking on his phone in rapid fire French. That was _way_ out of Yusuf's depth, even though it sounded a bit similar to Spanish.

Then the door opened again, someone probably come to tell him his break was over. He was surprised when it wasn't. "Rauf?" he asked, surprise.

Rauf, who had been scanning the area, immediately turned to him and smiled. He took three steps over to him where he was sitting on the little table they had out back for have their break on and then was kissing him. Short and hot and sweet and kinda made Yusuf light headed. "Zo goed?" Rauf asked him, lips pressing against his briefly again. Then he laughed when Yusuf couldn't _even speak_, the man on his phone looked at them briefly but didn't seem concerned.

"Ja," he sighed and reached for Rauf's face, kissing him again and he felt better.


	7. HawkSarah

Micheal/HawkSarah (Flocking Movement verse)

At the least she wasn't his problem. He refused to let Sarah become _his_ problem. But at the same time Micheal felt responsible since he'd been the one to bring a young girl from Pittsburgh to the Point. It was sort of on him. Or at least he thought so.

It was why he kept tabs on her even though he had his own life, his own friends, and didn't have time for a little farmer's daughter with too much spunk. That was what he told himself at least. Sam needled him about it when he heard about Sarah getting into fist fights with their brothers, or cat fights with their sisters. It was normal behavior. Such close proximity to one another eventually bred conflict and while they would fight they would never do so to harm. They weren't in to really hurting each other, they were brothers, they were family. Better then the family Sarah had had back in Pittsburgh obviously, or she wouldn't have followed Micheal home for three days without food or water.

Sometimes Sam joked that Micheal was like her big brother. At the least he was sort of like a benefactor. His mother helped Sarah sometimes, showed her what to do, how to move. He was okay with being Sarah's big brother, especially when he was at the Point and she'd bound up to him while he was still on Clipper's back, barely having gotten home from a mission involving this or that and had a million questions. It was sort of nice actually, he was an only child after his father had died, and his mother had never remarried, he liked having a little sister.

Except no real big brother ever looked at their little sister like Micheal was starting to look at Sarah. He was almost four years her senior but when she started to come into her womanhood; he noticed. He couldn't _not_ notice. She was gorgeous, her hair long, and she put it into intricate braids around her scalp, with big eyes, a long, slender, neck, skin the color of cream, and a mind that was sharper then a knife. She didn't put up with people, especially men, looking down on her just because she was a woman. Meaning she fit in perfectly with the rest of their sisters.

He found his eyes following after her more and more as she filled out her curves (and they were rather ample) and Sam would laugh at him and he'd slap his hands over his eyes to stop himself. Sarah was his sister. She also wasn't his problem. He shouldn't be thinking about doing some of the things he wanted to do with who he thought of as his sister. She didn't seem to notice, and treated him like always.

She was seventeen when he realized she didn't actually treat him like her brother anymore. He'd been sort of dancing around the fact that he was attracted to her for years, reminding him it wouldn't work. He, honestly, was often annoyed by her. But she also made him happy, and he wanted that. Sarah didn't really treat him like a brother anymore though, and it took Sam pointing it out to him for him to notice. They were just comfortable around each other and often would spend all day together, doing nothing, or he'd try (and fail) to teach Sarah to skip rocks, or fish with her hands, and she'd try (and fail) to teach him how to sew, or wrap a strained wrist. She was gentle, fiery, but gentle too.

A man named Dylan Murray got him to act. Dylan thought Sarah was beautiful too, and he was the same age as Sarah. Micheal had to take a step back before he actually did stab Dylan in the chest like Sam always joked he looked about to when he saw the younger man courting her. That didn't last long though because he didn't like Dylan and he liked Sarah and really they weren't siblings. There had been more then a little shock and surprise around the Point when Micheal made his not so brotherly affections known.

At least it was a surprise and shock to everyone _except_ Sarah.

Of course she'd seen it coming. He didn't know why he thought she'd be surprised. He'd yet to actually ever surprise her in anything, even if she sometimes pretended to do so to 'protect his fragile male ego', whatever _that_ meant.

The first time they kissed was a surprise, because _she_ kissed _him _and it just… had sort of happened. He wasn't even sure how when he thought about it, they'd just kinda fallen into it. In fact they'd just sort of fallen into everything really, including their romance and eventually marriage, something Micheal never thought he'd do, let alone to _Sarah_, that farmer's daughter from Pittsburgh who didn't know how to take care of herself and too much pride to listen to anyone and was always off climbing trees and getting lost in the woods and making his life difficult.

Hawk thought about all of that when he stood next to the casket.

He could feel the two others at the back of the church, watching him. He hadn't seen them much after the first decade, they let him find his own way, once they told him what he needed to know.

She was still beautiful, in her coffin, even though she was old, her hair silver and long around her shoulders. They'd flushed her cheeks and lips, which was funny, since she hated makeup, and never wore any. There were fine lines around her mouth and eyes from a life of smiling and her hands were resting on her chest. He didn't see the old woman in front of him though. He could still see her, young and beautiful and full of love and life.

He felt nothing though. A shadow of a memory of feeling. Honestly he shouldn't have even been there, as it was he was the last person there. The others had gone. He'd seen his son, Micheal II, and his family. His son was going to be a grandfather himself soon, his eldest daughter round with child.

Carefully, gently, Hawk reached out and stroked his fingers across Sarah's forehead, brushing back her hair. "Goodbye my love," he said softly and leaned over the edge of the casket and kissed her icy lips. "I'll find a way to see you again, I promise," he said, his voice gave away nothing. He didn't even _hurt_. Now he knew why the other two called it a curse, why they grew attached to nothing and no one.

Life was suffering and eternal life was eternal suffering.


	8. DesLucyClay

DesLucyClay

Her favorite times were mornings. Early mornings when everything was soft and fuzzy at the edges and you could fade in and out of sleep. That was the weekends at least, otherwise the alarm clock (they had three) would tell a very different story, which usually involved some scrambling on all their parts as they had different wake up calls. But mornings were for them when the bed was soft and warm and she couldn't figure out which feet belonged to who at the end of the bed.

She'd been called all sorts of things. All sorts of _awful_ things. It'd hurt at first, but now she didn't care. After all

_she_ was the one sleeping in bed with two amazing men. It was really hard to care actually when she woke up to one of them pressed up against her back, arm around her waist and could feel his breath in her hair. Or, as she was the first one to wake up during the work week, get ready for work and see her boys all wrapped up in each other. She thought it was cute.

They'd been friends before meeting her and both fallen for her, and instead of doing that stupid things boys did when they both liked a girl they'd just asked 'can you share us?' Not could they share her, because really, she was the one doing the sharing since they were practically joined at the hip before she even met them. She just sometimes wiggled her way in the middle.

Clay was lying on his stomach, face towards her, his mouth open as he slept, but not snoring. Desmond was on Clay's other side, half laying on him, face pressed into his shoulder. Lucy smiled, she liked seeing them like this, it was nice and they weren't being annoying when they were sleeping because even if she loved them they could be _really_ annoying.

She didn't bother to get up yet, even as the light intensified outside as the sun rose, and it filtered around the blinds on the windows. Desmond woke first, she recognized the change in his breathing, and he rubbed his face against Clay's skin, his head turning and his brown eyes finding her's. "You're up early," he said in a tired, dreamy, voice. She shrugged. "Sleep all right?"

"Yeah," she said, wriggling a bit closer to Clay. Desmond grinned and leaned over the blonde man's back a bit to find her lips. "Ew morning breath," she said teasingly. His grin widened, showing teeth, and he leaned further over Clay and kissed her again sweetly on the lips.

"As wonderful as this sight is, mind getting your big fucking hand out of my spine?" Clay suddenly asked, sounding awake but only under duress. Desmond had his hand planted on Clay's back to give him leverage and Lucy laughed at them both when Desmond purposefully pressed his hand further into Clay's flesh. "I'm ganna make you regret this Des," Clay grumbled and she pushed away when they suddenly seemed very awake and in the span of two seconds were grappling on the bed.

"Both of you behave!" she cried, though was laughing, knowing this was just typical behavior. After a minute they settled on the bed again, panting, still pushing at each other and she climbed over Clay to physically put herself between them. "I thought," she said as they moved to give her room, "I said behave," and she gave them both tugs on the chin.

Desmond pouted, Clay just smirked. She kissed them both on the lips and two pairs of arms wrapped around her. "It's still early," Desmond said, his head sort of on her shoulder. "We should-

"Have sex," Clay interrupted.

"I wasn't going to say that!" Desmond cried and Lucy laughed again. "Stop thinking about sex all the time," and he flicked Clay on the forehead.

"But its really great," Clay whined and both Lucy and Desmond rolled their eyes.  
"I _was_ going to say that we should go out for breakfast," Desmond finished pointedly with a significant look at Clay.

"I think that's a great idea," Lucy said before Clay could say anything, because he looked about to. Desmond grinned widely, Clay tried to pretend like he was upset about having his idea and not doing a very good job at it. Even though they agreed to go get breakfast they stayed in bed a while yet, pressed up together, legs all tangled together. Lucy loved mornings.


	9. FedericoVieri

FedericoVieri

Federico thought it was funny, and great, how much and how easily he could piss people off. Under normal circumstances this wasn't a skill that he openly flainted. But, this was… A special situation. Namely Vieri was a special situation.

The Pazzi got angry at nothing. All Federico had to do was smile at him and he'd get red faced and swear at him. Federico knew he had a charming smile, but so charming that it pissed people off? He truly did have a special talent. And he used it often because what joy was there in life if he couldn't piss off that silly Pazzi boy, especially when he got so mad he couldn't even threaten him properly. An amazing talent. Ezio said it was nothing special, Federico pissed him off all the time with just his face. But his brother was a sweet heart who flattered him. No one else he knew could flip off just at a smile.

Needless to say he smiled_ a lot_ around Vieri.

After a while he wondered what else would happen if he did other stuff, or if it was just him in a good mood that pissed him off. So he started giving him looks. Half looks when he found him and his little brother fighting, break them up sometimes too with his own friends. Sometimes he ended up touching the Pazzi, tugging on the front of his clothes so they lay properly on him, teasingly, mockingly, because nothing Federico ever did was as serious as people pretended to be. Vieri would be incapable of any speech when he did that, and just glare murderously at Federico, red faced and angry. He thought it was fun!

His brother hadn't gotten into any trouble today. Federico was bored since other then making Vieri angry rescuing his baby brother from his stupid troubles was one of his favorite things to do. But Ezio was off with Cristina and he didn't want to think about that. Let his brother have his fun. He liked to flirt, but Federico only liked that really. He liked to have fun and tease and joke and make people feel special, but that was about as far as usually went. He had other interests then getting under a girl's skirt.

So he was just hanging out on the roof of one of the churches in Florence when he heard someone climbing up the side. He propped himself up a bit as they scrambled up onto the roof. It was the Pazzi boy, Vieri. As soon as the black haired man saw him he turned red, "What are you looking at _cazzo_?" he growled and walked over to him, a bit unsteady on the steeped roof of the church, but without aggression.

"Just you _mio tesoro_," he said sweetly, teasingly.

Vieri glowered at him, the red on his face spreading and darkening. Federico just continued to grin at him. He looked about to leave but thought better of it at the last moment apparently and sat down on the roof beside him. Serious faced, Federico sat up next to him and leaned over, kissing him.

This was why Vieri got so angry and red faced every time he so much as saw Federico. He didn't quite get _why_ but that just made it all the better really! Making Vieri a mess really was his favorite thing to do. Vieri only let Federico kiss him when he wasn't joking around though, too serious for his own good sometimes. But he did so, because he liked kissing him, and wanted to keep doing so.

Perhaps the best part was when Vieri finally let go and kissed him back too. It always took a few seconds, like he didn't want it. Or want to want it. Even though he did, and liked it quite a bit. The Pazzi boy always said the only good thing about Federico was his mouth. He'd yet to prove Vieri wrong there either.

Federico grinned when they parted. Vieri scowled at him. "Oh c'mom," he said, nudging Vieri a little, "it would literally not kill you to smile once in a while," he teased. Federico gave him a look, brows arched. "Let's see a smile mio amore," and kissed him once more, lightly on the lips. Vieri sighed and gave him a placating, something resembling a smile tucked into one of his cheeks. "Perfect!" he declared delightfully and kissed him again firmly. His smile spread when he felt Vieri smile into his mouth.


	10. DesClay

Continuation from the story I did for the Father's day requests with these two.

* * *

DesClay

He was always glad when he came home. Work nights were long and Desmond always got home after Duncan went to sleep. Usually he had a sitter on the nights he worked the late night shift. Or he had before. He didn't anymore, he had something better.

There was only a small side lamp on when he came home, the rest of the apartment was dark and with a sigh he stepped out of his shoes and put them next to the door, next to several smaller pairs of shoes and one that was about the same size as him. He just had one pair, and he always wore them into the ground because he'd rather buy new things for him son then for himself. He wanted to make sure Duncan had everything he'd never had as a kid growing up in a creepy commune out in the middle of nowhere where girls sometimes got pregnant by seventeen and not usually by people they wanted to get pregnant by. He was glad he got out of there. He never wanted Duncan to have that either.

He turned on another light and went to the kitchen, pulling out leftovers from the fridge. Clay could cook, not quite as well as Desmond, but he could cook, and always made enough for Desmond to have when he came home.

The clock on the stove said it was almost one and he heated up macaroni and cheese and a pork chop in the microwave. The dull droning of the appliance made him tired. At least he didn't do mornings, though maybe that would be better. But he liked to be up when Duncan went to school, needed to make sure he got ready, and packed his lunch.

Across the hall the wooden floor creaked and he looked up. "Hey," he said to the blond who was standing in the half dark. For half a second he was reminded of his late wife, but then it passed. "You're up late."

Clay smiled a little, tiredly, "I was waiting for you to get home," Clay said, sliding into the kitchen. "Your little angel had a cough," he added, Desmond frowned and the microwave beeped. He quickly opened the door.

"You know you should just go to bed," Desmond said as Clay came to lean against the counter next to him, pressing his hip against Desmond as he held his plate in one hand and ate with the other.

Clay just shrugged, "Trouble sleeping," he said.

"Why?" Desmond asked, spooning cheesy noodles into his mouth like it was his job.

"Listening for Duncan," Clay said tiredly. "I didn't want to you worry about him if it was something," and he crossed his arms, holding onto his elbows tiredly.

Desmond swallowed hurriedly and gave Clay a smile, "You're great," he just said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Yeah," he said slowly, "But I was a sick kid. Coughs can be bad."

"He's fine though?"

"Coughed a little early on, but that was a while ago. I woke up when I heard the door open cause I was sleeping lighter then usual," and he yawned, obviously he wanted to be asleep still, proof being that he was still in his boxers and one of Desmond's shirts, which was too big on him since Desmond's chest was bigger then his.

"Thank you," he said leaning over to him and kissing his shoulder, then up his neck. Clay rolled his shoulder upwards, he was a bit ticklish along his neck.

"Least I can do," Clay said. Desmond used the pronged side of his fork (there was nothing on it) to turn Clay's head and he kissed the blonde properly.

"Go to bed," he said gently. "I'll be along in a minute."

Clay yawned again, "Okay," his head resting on Desmond's shoulder. Desmond finished his dinner and really did shoo Clay off to bed with another kiss. Desmond put his dish in the sink to clean tomorrow, and checked on his boy before going to his room, he was sleeping restfully. Clay was sound asleep, sleeping with his mouth open. Desmond grinned at him and fell into bed next to him, he slept deeply.


	11. IsaacErica

IsaacErica

At first she was 'sister'.

Derek said they were family. Isaac had only ever had a brother, he'd never had a sister, he didn't even know what _to do_ with a sister. They were just creatures people talked about to him. It had just been him and his dad for a while after his brother shipped off. And Erica _was_ a creature.

That was the only thing he could use to describe her accurately. She was like Wonder Woman, powerful, and always at least pretended to be fearless. He knew she wasn't, he could smell it on her, and saw it sometimes when she sat down after training, her hands in her hair, staring at the ground.

They didn't have the time they needed to learn really. It wasn't their fault, it was more Derek's fault, but mostly the Argents'. They didn't blame Derek though. None of them did. Not him, not Erica, not Boyd. He was there for them when they needed him, but he couldn't be _everywhere_. They all knew Derek had been lonely, it wasn't hard to realize that; they were _all_ lonely. At least he cared though. That was more then what his father had done in the end.

He didn't know what to do with sisters though. He could do Boyd. Boyd was familiar. Hell, even Scott, he could manage Scott, Stiles too. Because they were guys, and he'd beaten them both into the lacrosse field enough to know what to do with them. Boyd was the brother he'd never had, quiet, studious, really smart, but also sort of stupid. Not like stupid stupid, but he was all book smart, he wasn't good with people, sometimes it was like interacting with a brick wall. Scott was just… dumb. Stiles was too smart for his own good, though didn't know everything, he knew a lot though.

Erica though…

He didn't know what to do with Erica. She was beautiful and powerful and amazingly intelligent, and while he'd never noticed her much before you couldn't help but notice her now. Everything about Erica commanded attention. Her attitude, her figure, her volumous blonde hair, her mile long legs, the way her eyes smiled before she did and you knew you were screwed because she was about to break out the claws. It was all foreign, and all really, really hot.

Yeah he wasn't doing too good at this whole 'Erica was his sister' thing.

He noticed he got angrier, easier (easier then normal, as he did so pretty easily now that he was a werewolf), when guys looked at her, especially guys on the lacrosse team and he wasn't unaware oh who Derek was meaning when he said he had someone in mind Erica. It was scary, that Derek could command them like that. And it had been scary when they'd been sitting in science, he'd seen Erica trying to bother Scott, get him interested. It'd been dangerous. Derek should have known better. At least he'd kept it together for that.

The night at the rave had almost undone him. Jackson had _hurt her_. He'd used the gun Dr. Deacon had given him instead of just burying his claws in Jackson's gut for that. It had been a lot less satisfying. But he knew he couldn't kill Jackson. _Derek_ couldn't kill Jackson, what chance did he have? It had turned out to be not a very good one at all he came to find out.

Then there was the full moon. Their _first_ full moon. He hadn't been happy about that, but after what his father did to him it was almost… horrifyingly, normal. Being locked up, contained, that was the easy part. It wasn't like Derek was shutting him in darkness. He wasn't putting him in a cooler. Chains and shackles were practically an upgrade.

"How do you control it?" he asked.

"Find an anchor," Derek told him, he was so calm on the full moon, meanwhile Isaac could feel his blood roaring through his veins even then. It was like he was drunk. Drunk and high and standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down, ready to jump, anticipation and adrenaline racing through his entire body.

"What's yours?" and Derek checked his chains, he gave an involuntary jerk, the feeling of the moon crashed into him like fifty foot waves. He was looking at Derek and his vision was rose colored at the edges, and narrowed to a point; Derek.

Derek glanced at him, checked his chains again, "Anger," was his quiet reply, and he could _taste_ that there was more. More he wasn't telling him. But Derek was always one for his secrets. "But it doesn't have to be that for everyone," at least his eyes were honest. A wave crashed into him, unexpected, violent, his body jerked again, out of his control. He broke the leg of the bus chair. Derek looked at him and Isaac looked away, forcibly calming himself, trying to think of something he could use as an anchor as Derek secured him to something he couldn't destroy.

Time passed, blood and silver rushed through his entire body. He was flush with the moon even though he couldn't see it. Behind him Boyd and Erica were rustling around, and every now and then Erica would whine, hurt, pain lacing from the crown Derek had made him help put on her. She could handle the pain, she could recover from it, but listening to her made him angry. Not the sort of blind anger he felt sometimes like he did at Jackson, for hurting her at the rave, or the rage he couldn't control that came from the moon. This was a worried anger, but there was nothing he could do to help her.

The moon's presence in his body became stronger. He could feel the moon, rising overhead, out of sight. His hands were fists on his jeans. He didn't want to kill, not really, he'd never been that sort. He just wanted _out_ and maybe destroy whatever was between him and the feeling of the moon on his skin. Isaac was aware that he was shaking, and doing so uncontrollably. His leg jittered, his arms shook from clenching his hands and his jaw hurt, he was clenching it, and felt his sharp teeth grind.

Behind him one of the others lost it. It sounded like Erica. Her whimper turned into a roar of rage and pain and that was all he needed to tip over the edge. Outside he could hear Derek talking, but couldn't understand. Rationality was gone, his vision washed red.

Derek came onto the bus. The non primal part of him knew Derek had chained him to keep him safe, keep them all safe. Now all he saw was a jailer. He growled and behind him he heard and felt rather then saw Boyd break his own chains. Erica yowled like a wild cat and Derek walked past him, he hadn't done anything. Not yet.

Not

Yet.

He snapped when he heard Erica growl, breaking _something_, and then he was suddenly standing. The shackles around his wrists were paper light and he growled at Derek, leaping at him nearly at the same time as Boyd. He got tossed aside like so many times during training, straight out of the bus. He hit the pavement hard and for a second couldn't breathe. He might have bruised a rib. It healed quickly and he gasped.

Outside the bus it was calmer. He could think. There wasn't anything restraining him, nor was there Derek. He could just get up and leave, follow the pull of the moon. He wanted to. He _wanted to_.

Inside the bus someone roared, Derek. Only Derek sounded _like that_. Powerful. In control. He wanted that control. An anchor. He needed that, he wanted that more then the moon. More then the cold silver light that he knew would feel like being splashed with cold water, refreshing, invigorating. He needed to calm down and not want to rip off into the night. The bus rocked, he heard Erica cry out.

Everything came into a sudden, sharp, focus. He wanted to help her. He _needed_ to help her, because she couldn't help herself. Strong, capable, perfect, Erica, was under the moon's influence and she would get hurt. Derek was hurting her, but not because he wanted to.

Isaac scrambled to his feet, his sneakers skidding on the cement. He remembered every moment they'd spent together since they'd joined Derek's pack. Training, playing, hanging out in school and after. She was his friend. She was his pack mate. She was _his_, and he'd protect her, even from herself. Like he couldn't do with his dad, he'd let it spiral out of control and hadn't tried to stop it, not really. He wouldn't let it happen again.

The bus smelled of blood. Isaac was breathing heavy, looking at the scene of Erica and Boyd attacking their Alpha. The moon tugged at him, trying to drive him. But he wouldn't. He had to help Erica.

He grabbed her off Derek and threw her to the front of the bus. Derek turned, looked at him, he met his Alpha's eyes for only a moment, enough for Derek to get it, then he turned away from them both as Erica was getting up. He hurled himself at her and they went crashing to the ground, she scratched and tried to bite him, he kept her still. Or tried to. It was like trying to calm an earth quake, she did everything she could to kill him and they rolled over on the floor of the bus, ending up wedged between two seats. He could hear Derek continuing to deal with Boyd. No short task as Boyd was big, and bigger when he'd wolfed out, eyes glowing, mouth snarling.

"Erica," he said her name a few more times as she fought against him, and managed to grab her wrists, pinning her with his entire body, but keeping out of reach of her teeth, because they were sharp and he rather liked the skin and flesh on his face and neck. He knew he'd have to hurt her though, because she couldn't hear him. As if she wasn't hurting enough. But he wanted to help her, and to do that he had to hurt her.

He didn't want to smash her head, in case one of the screws really did kill her. Instead he wrapped a hand around her throat and _squeezed_, listening closely to her heart. She scratched at him, drawing blood on his arms and cheek, gasping around his hand. Then she ran out of air, and she blacked out, her heart thundered and he let her go, she breathed.

Behind him Isaac heard Derek finish with Boyd. "I'm sorry," he told Erica's unconscious body, and brushed some of her hair from her face gently, mindful of his claws. Then he looked over his shoulder, Derek was standing behind the seat, Isaac just stared at him and after a moment slid off Erica, knowing his Alpha was disapproving and approving at the same time, for two different reasons. Erica wasn't for him. But he was glad Isaac had control of himself.

Together they bound Erica and Boyd back up, and Isaac sat on one of the seats, quiet. Derek restrained him again, though her knew that wouldn't be required. He was just being careful though. "You find an anchor?" Derek asked.

"Yeah," he kept his words short, cool.

"What?"

"My father," it was partially true. But just like Derek's partial anger Isaac didn't have to tell the whole thing. He didn't want to tell Derek it was Erica, because Erica wasn't for him.

"The man locked you in a cooler," Derek reminded him.

"Not always," his voice was soft, far away, he was barely hearing Derek, barely hearing himself. He couldn't hear well over the sound of his own blood in his veins and the moon which called to him even though they were underground.

Derek said nothing, he just patted Isaac's shoulder and left the bus to find a new shirt. Isaac stared straight ahead for a moment and then closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in the feeling of the moon, so his nose wouldn't keep smelling Erica lying prone in the bus behind him, knowing _he_ was the one who'd put her there.

* * *

and that's all she wrote!


End file.
